"Suppressors?" That sure as hell got Yuri's interest. He drops the hand holding the cinnamon bun, forgetting about it until that motion results in him smearing icing across his pant leg. Making a face, he lifts his hand (and the bun) again and dabs at the mess with his other hand, making it worse. Giving it up as a lost cause, he goes back to the object of his consternation with a feeling of urgency.

"There are suppressants for it where you come from? Do you know how they work?"